Segue Glow

I've decided to return to much of my freshman year mannerisms. I loved myself freshman year, because back then I lacked the sugarcoating filter I have now. I just said what I felt. Period. A lot of people didn't like me freshman year, and I can honestly say I couldn't have possibly cared any less. I want to get back to just not giving a shit about other people's opinions. I need to get back to just doing me.

Part of me feels terrible about the Jae situation. And another, much larger, part feels like.. what the fuck is wrong with you?! We've been broken up for almost THREE years. Get a grip on life, seriously. There's only so much I'm going to apologize for, and I ONLY apologize for you being hurt by me. I am not going to apologize for being honest, I am not going to apologize for falling out of love with you, I am not going to apologize for moving on with my life. I am ESPECIALLY sorry, though, that after THREE motherfucking years you haven't been able to. I encouraged you to date other girls; you chose not to. I encouraged you to fuck around; you chose not to. You're not about to keep guilt-tripping me because of YOUR decisions. I don't care that much anymore. Just.. stop.

Moving on, literally, I've found that George makes me smile in way that I haven't in such a long time. Because of the small things, like not getting mad at me for calling and waking him at 2am consistently after having recurring nightmares. Or calling me in the mornings just to wish me a good day, except on Wednesdays when he doesn't call until after noon to wish me a good day off. Or always asking if there's anything I need or anything he can help with. I appreciate that no matter how busy he is, he always responds immediately to my texts. I think it's cute how he calls me cute names on the phone when his cousin is around, and is calling him soft in the background. I like how he asks me how I am, and doesn't consider a one-word response acceptable. It feels good that he's always so interested in how my day went, though he has far more exciting things going on in his own life. I like how I already feel important, but not pressured. I adore the fact that he always finds a few hours to spend with his mom on Sundays, and is always encouraging me to call my own.

I've finally accepted the fact that I do indeed like the kid, and that I ought not feel bad or guilty about that.

I think I'm going to NYC. (:

Stop This World

This has the potential to be quite lengthy.

I woke up today feeling quite renewed and content. But I suppose that's what happens when Little Red Riding Hood trots off to torment someone else. Either way, I feel very calm and levelheaded.

I've been thinking about the bus incident quite a bit, and I think I've settled on attending graduate or law school either here or at Wayne State, then setting up shop in Detroit as a community organizer/lawyer. I'd also like to create a broad-base organization targeting our youth. I'll discuss that in more details at a later time.

I am choosing to forgo a "prestigious" Ivy graduate or law degree. I am choosing to forgo the glamorous lifestyle as a young associate at some "pristine" law firm. While I have not put to rest my aspirations of morphing the world, I think I've now come to believe that my career should be rooted in my roots. Before I offer my talent to the world, I must first replenish the soil that nourished me.

I am going to be not rich for quite some time. But that's ok.

This decision also stems from an argument I had with two drunk anarchists in the Union at 2am, just hours before the polls opened. They were trying to convince me that this election was not important. I heavily disagreed. Because of my strong type A personality, and their inebriation, we argued for quite some time. I was mostly right, of course. But they did make a good point.

Barack Obama is such an inspirational man, many people, myself included, spent hours volunteering for his campaign. We spent hours watching the debates, and hours convincing our neighbors and our friends that he was the man for the job. But just imagine how much of an impact we could have if we put equal effort and passion into our community.

While change in policy and practice can and will have great impacts on our lives as citizens of this nation, much change must originate from the bottom. Much like the fallacies of Reagan economics, change at the top only reaches so far.

So, I've decided to start at the bottom, and work my way up.

In other news, it disturbs me how ethnocentric Americans are. In my Anthropology discussion today, we talked about accents, and how some people with non-standard American accents (which apparently is rooted in Grand Rapids, go figure) are taking classes to dilute their accents. And I was totally against the idea. Nothing busts my balls and boils my blood more than assimilation. An accent isn't just a deviation in pronunciation; it's an audible representation of your culture, your heritage, your ethnicity and nationality.

Fuck the "standard American accent." I'm tired of everyone being forced to be "standard Americans." Fuck that.

So of course some people complained that they have Korean, Chinese or Indian professors or GSIs who are hard to understand, making it difficult to learn. One girl went so far as to say that "those people" needed a "better grasp of English, or they needed to find another job."

First of all, it is ignorant and condescending to assert that because someone has a foreign accent, they do not proficiently know English. You're a dumbass for not only thinking that, but actually saying it. The people they let in college these days.

Secondly, communication is a two-way street. When someone has an accent that is foreign to you, you listen harder. It is much easier, and I'm sure less detrimental to who you are as a cultural being, to listen a little more attentively than it is for them to go about erasing their accent. If you didn't catch it the first time, I'm sure it's much easier for you to simply go to office hours to ask for clarification, than it is for them to go about erasing their accent. I am still sure that it is much easier for you to adapt as a listener, in this two-way street of communication, than it is for them to further adapt as a speaker.

Snotty bitch.

My Moon

Continued..

1. I am a degree less than obsessed with my own nudity. I love my naked body. I think I have really soft skin, and I love my complexion. I love the look of my breasts. I love my waist. I love my thighs. I love being naked. A lot.

2. I love to drink everything but water. I drink constantly. I would rather drink than eat any day. But I absolutely refuse to drink water unless I am dying. (And by loving to drink, I am not including alcohol, which I haven't had a sip of since I've been in college. Go me!)

3. I consider myself very sexually liberal and conservative, all at the same time. There are a number of things I'd like to do and try, but I refuse to do anything with someone who I don't sincerely and deeply care about.

4. I do not open up to people. At all. But I've finally gotten to the point where I'd like to, but now I feel like no one really cares. And I don't really know how to get started. This is all so foreign to me!

5. I wouldn't mind eating pizza everyday for the rest of my life, so long as it's good pizza. With red pepper flakes on top.

6. I'd rather be just content than extremely happy.

7. I have just as much fun doing "boring" things as I do doing "exciting" things.

Rosebud

The problem with never is that it doesn't come soon enough.

Taqee "sad-faced" me last night because he said that I have an entire "second life" that I've been hiding.

Which I suppose is true.

But apart from the obvious difficulties that come with sharing your "second life", I find it hard to do so when so many people use their "second lives" as a way to validate themselves.

It is trendy to be a glutton for pain. It makes you cool. It makes you popular. It makes your life significant, important, noteworthy.

I would love to be able to trust someone enough to be able to share everything with them. I would love to be able to share, even with only one person, the history of my joy and pain. I would love to be able to share with someone my story, and to hear theirs.

But I don't want to fit the cool kid category. I don't want to be congratulated for my ability to be so "strong," or to appear so "normal" (assuming that I do) in spite of the roads I've traveled. I don't want pity, or sympathy.

I just want it to be taken as it is. I want to be taken as I am. I don't want to be classified with the Angst Teens of the 21st century, because that's not me.

When I'm looked at, I want people to just see Constance-Marie, for all of her amazing glory. Because I am amazing. But not because I have such a "hurtful second life."

And so, I keep it to myself.

Pear

"Faith is for those who have little else."

I often wonder if things would've worked out the way they should've, if I'd still now be so consumed with finding faith. Who needs faith when one has happiness? Who needs faith when one has love? Who needs faith when one has reality?

I wonder.

It'd be good to one day not have to wonder so much.

Let It Die

Dear friend,

It's hard for me to write this letter, because the words are escaping me. I wish you could just look at me, and feel what I'm feeling, read my thoughts, understand me.

It feels good to be accepted. It feels good not having to worry about getting hurt. But that doesn't mean I want to be with you.

You know nearly everything about my life, because in an emotional rage, and mental breakdown, I told you. But that doesn't mean I trust you.

The truth is, no one likes being alone. I know that you'd never leave me alone. And that's why I always came back to you. But that doesn't mean I can't live without you.

Fact of the matter is, I have lived without you. I've experienced so much without you. And it made me realize that I'm not in love with you. And I don't know if I ever was.

I don't tingle when I talk to you. Months after we've been apart, I don't think about you before going to sleep. I don't think back on where we've been, and what we've done, and how far we came. When I'm surrounded by friends, I don't miss you.

I'm not in love with you.

You've been a great friend to me, perhaps the best I ever had. Thank you.

I want to somehow return the favor. The only way I know how is by releasing you. You deserve someone who is as passionate about you, as you are them. You deserve someone who wants, and needs you all the time, happy or sad. You deserve someone who wants you for everything you are, and not for anything you do for them. You deserve someone better.

I hope you someday begin finding yourself, as I've begun finding me.

Love always,
Marie

Lacquer

I've been feeling so tired lately.

I almost feel as though this world is opening around me, and slowly preparing to swallow me whole. I'm losing sight of myself, and my personal truths. I've found that I'm having a harder and harder time holding on to me. Everyone is projecting their emotions onto me, and I, in turn, am unreasonably absorbing them.

Public blogging is starting to greatly lose its appeal to me. It's nice to get at least some of my feelings out and in front of me, but I find it a bit discomforting that there are people reading this who I never intended to. I'm not the one to normally share myself with people. I find emotions, particularly discontent or pain, to be especially private, and I don't feel like everyone has the right to know that side of me.

And often times I find it more frustrating than releasing because there are things I'll never be able to effectively convey to others. So I may say that I'm feeling incredibly sad, without the words to really explain why, which is, I'm sure, frustrating for others. But it's even more annoying and hurtful for me to feel all but abandoned by others when I struggle to explain myself.

So away she goes.